


Hold On Loosely

by AlleiraDayne



Series: The End [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Angst, Arguing, Come Sharing, Come as Lube, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Kissing, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character, Protective Dean Winchester, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sex Toys, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 10:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16911000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: Elizabeth has it out with Dean about his over-protective behavior since she and Natalie started hunting with the Winchesters.





	Hold On Loosely

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a writing challenge on Tumblr. The line I chose from the challenge was "I am not a beautiful disaster or a hot mess. I’m the crazy bitch that you should think twice about fucking with," and had to be spoken by the female character. The piece also needed to be from her point of view.

The door of the Impala crashed closed harder than Elizabeth intended, her nostrils flaring along with her temper. As if he had not done enough already, Dean glared from across the hood of the car and it burned her fuse dangerously close to its end.

“What the hell is your problem?” he demanded. “You’ve been silent the whole way back to the Bunker, you give me your stink-eye whenever I look at you, and now you slam my car door. Baby didn’t do anything to you, so don’t take your shit out on her.”

That was it. The final spark. Elizabeth’s anger erupted in a shower of fire and rage. “I’m not taking it out on your damn car. You wanna know what my problem is? It’s you. You’re my fucking problem,” she barked as she jabbed a finger at him. Furious, she shouldered her duffle bag and started for the steps. “You and every single hunt we’ve been on since we met.”

Dean scoffed as he trotted to catch her. “What do you mean, every single hunt? We’ve been on a lot of hunts together and they’ve… well, they’ve gone okay. Mostly.”

Elizabeth rounded on him in the stairwell to the residence halls. “You insisted that we team up,” she stated as she prodded his chest with a pointed finger. “Yeah, sure, Natalie and I were in a bad way, we needed help, so we agreed. Now, I think you saw an opportunity and took advantage of us.”

When she turned to continue down the stairs, Dean’s heavy boots stomped after her. “You needed help, Liz! I didn’t take advantage of anything, I just wanted to help!”

Elizabeth tore the door to the hallway aside and it crashed against the adjacent wall. As she crossed the threshold, she continued to shout. “You wanted to help, or did you want more people to boss around?! Which is it, Dean? Because I can’t tell the fucking difference!”

Past Dean’s room, Elizabeth rounded the corner into the main hallway, headed for her room. When Dean had not responded to her last statement, she stopped, hand on the knob, and waited.

“You know I only wanted to help,” he growled between gritted teeth. “Don’t act like you don’t know that.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she opened the door and tossed her green duffel bag on the floor. Their last hunt had gone off without a hitch, Dean taking the lead as usual. But he had, once again, unnecessarily risked his own life to protect her.

The memory angered her further as Elizabeth slammed her door shut and headed for the kitchen. Hot on her heels, Dean followed. He needed to hear it, she knew, but that did not make the issue any easier to discuss. In the kitchen, she wrenched open the refrigerator and withdrew two beers. As she opened them, she turned to Dean and said, “You’re overstepping a major boundary I have.”

Dean licked his lips as his brow crept towards his hair. “What do you mean? What boundary?”

Elizabeth handed him one of the bottles as she sipped from her own. He took it with a muttered, “Thanks,” under his breath, then drank a long pull. She waited until he finished to speak. “That’s my point, Dean. You have zero boundaries. I’ve seen it with your brother. With Cas. It’s starting to bleed over to me, and even Natalie a little,” she explained. “Shit, it’s almost like how you treat your car. Now, that I understand, Baby is you girl just like Val is mine. But I ain’t no car, Dean. I don’t deserve to be treated like that. Nobody does.”

Dean glared, his face contorting from perturbed to devious with a twitch of his brow and a smirk. “I have plenty of boundaries. I hid my porn collection,” he stated.

Son of a bitch. Why, _why_ did she laugh? Something about his humor disarmed her with terrifying ease. “A damn shame, that is,” she said with a smirk of her own. “We could have shared.”

That caught him off guard, Dean’s side-eyed glare wide and serious as a heart attack. “Weren’t we just talking about boundaries?”

“Oh,” Elizabeth quipped. “Back to the argument then. Okay.” She set her beer down on the steel counter with a metallic clang. “Look, Dean, I know why you’re doing it. I’m having trouble reconciling my feelings, too, but you have got to stop stepping in the line of fire for me. It’s going to get you killed. And from a few of Sam’s _and_ Castiel’s stories, it sounds like that’s been a problem for you since forever and it _has_ taken your life. More than once. I don’t even understand how you’re standing—"

“Wait, back up,” Dean interjected with a pleading hand. “What feelings? What are you talking about?”

There was the rub. “You have got to be kidding me, dude,” Elizabeth breathed. “Why do you insist on protecting me? Hm? Why do you feel it necessary to push me out of the way, to jump in between me and a kill? This last hunt was the worst, man. I feel so worthless when I hunt with you. Childish even, like I just play at hunting and you’re the professional.”

Any humor that remained in Dean fled in that instant. Elizabeth’s heart broke with her every word as the light left his beautiful emerald eyes. But he had to hear it. He had to understand how she felt. Maybe that way he could come to terms with his own feelings. She could only hope.

With his chastised frown, Dean averted his eyes as he spoke. “I never meant to make you feel that way,” he muttered as he stared at his boots. “I worry, that's all. Just trying to look out for you.”

Elizabeth nodded as she returned to her beer. A refreshing swig cooled her tongue, the heavy hops sweet, almost bitter. “Why, though? For my sake? Or yours?”

“Yours,” Dean scoffed. “Why would-” A knowing spark revitalized his smile as he regarded her. “Oh. I get it. I know what this is about.”

Well, shit. That had taken less effort than Elizabeth had expected. “What?”

“This is about us,” he said, voice deep in his chest. “You know, if you wanted to get in my pants again, you could have just asked.”

Elizabeth groaned as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “If that’s all I wanted, Dean, you'd know.”

He took a step towards her, beer in hand meeting his lips for another taste. “Would I, though? You said it yourself, you’re having trouble with your feelings. Are they getting in the way?”

Great. She should have anticipated such a misunderstanding from him. And while Elizabeth had not ignored her instincts, she had sorely underestimated how obtuse Dean might be. She had figured that, at the very least, they were too old for asinine courtship behavior. But that had been hoping for too much, it seemed.

She met him halfway, two steps closing the space between them. “Depends. Who am I to you? A pretty girl you found on the side of the highway, desperate for help? Or a skilled, seasoned hunter?”

For a long moment, Dean said nothing. He simply stared, as if he searched her gaze for the right answer. A sip of his beer left alcohol on his breath as he said, “Maybe a little bit of both. Maybe being a hunter helps you reconcile that desperate, helpless part of you.”

How could he be so damn daft? “Christ, dude. You are so full of shit,” Elizabeth started. “ **I’m not some beautiful disaster or hot mess** you need to fix.”

Dean’s arched brow questioned that statement. “What are you, then? Enlighten me, if I’m so far off base.” He took one last half step, encroaching, his chest meeting hers.

Sudden clarity hit Elizabeth like a mac ton truck at full speed. She had given Dean far too little credit. With his pretty face and those amazing arms, she had thought him to be all charisma and little intellect when it came to relationships. But at that moment, Elizabeth had never been so thrilled to be so wrong. She recognized every move, every glance, every touch. He read from the same playbook as she, and with the same deadly precision. And so, staring into his green eyes so heavily lidded with want, she doubled down and said, “ **I’m the crazy bitch that you should think twice about fucking with.** ”

No one should be allowed to smile the way Dean Winchester did at her. It was no smirk, no charming quirk or come-hither beckoning of his full lips. No, his smile crinkled the corners of his eyes and buffed his rough facade to reveal a whole host of emotions. “I don’t think you’re crazy,” he started as he curled a lock of her hair behind her ear, “and you’re definitely not a bitch. You might be ruthless. But far from a bitch. And trust me, I’ve wondered about—how did you put it? Fucking with you? Yeah, I’ve definitely thought about that more than twice in the last three hours…”

He toed a dangerous line, dancing so close to the topic that Elizabeth fought the need to scream. Instead, she chose to speak his language. Beneath the hem of his shirt, she toyed with the buckle of his belt. “You know that’s not what I meant,” she stated.

The tick of the kitchen clock echoed in the long silence between them until his fingers slipped over hers and withdrew her drink. Behind her he reached, both of their bottles set on the metal counter. So close, his heady scent filled her nose, gun oil, whisky, and a hint of peppermint. Elizabeth had not noticed it before, and even thought to ask, but then his calloused hand cupped her cheek as the other pulled her flush to his body at the small of her back. With no other choice, her hands slipped to his back and found the corded muscles as sweat rolled along his spine. There, so close to him, the bunker faded away to nothing. Without any prompt, they spoke at the same time.

“I love you.”

At least Dean had the decency to rear back in surprise. But that lasted only a single beat of his heart, thumping against her chest.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that,” he whispered. “Didn’t seem like your bag.”

She understood everything then. “It’s not,” she started. “You’re right. And I can imagine how that might have kept you from saying anything sooner.”

Dean shrugged, though he looked everything but indifferent. Hope brightened his green gaze as he stared, searched, but for what Elizabeth was unsure. Seconds continued their endless ticking until she leaned into his embrace and, with all the patience she had left, placed a tender kiss on his lips.

A lifetime passed in seconds, stretched with Dean’s touch smoothing from her back to her ass. Deliberate, steady, Elizabeth felt the confident ease in his touch. And though she wanted nothing more than to have her way with him, she relished the thought of taking her time with Dean, of doing to him all the salient things she had imagined over the last few months, as slow as they could stand it.

And then Dean moaned.

So much for patience.

Elizabeth leaped into action and a quick step spun them about with Dean backed up to the metal countertop. She pinned him to the edge with her hips and he gasped. His lips parted as he sucked in a deep breath, his bottom lip held between hers and released with a wet _pop_. When she wrenched his belt free and tossed it to the floor, he caught on and peeled away her extra layers until only her t-shirt remained.

The button of his jeans popped free and the zipper fell with ease, revealing a pair of snug boxer briefs that formed to his erection. Between the fabrics, Elizabeth slipped her hand with a hurried, insistent stroke. Impulse stole the reins of her control, frantic kisses and greedy hands clamoring for more, more of him, more of the man she had loved in silence for months. As if he read her thoughts, Dean grasped the supple cheeks of her ass and picked her up. She inhaled a sharp breath as he planted his lips on hers for an insistent kiss that left her gasping for air.

Without wasting any time, Dean rushed to her room, closest to the kitchen, and threw the door open so hard it crashed into the opposite wall. He kicked it closed as it rebounded and pinned Elizabeth to it, another hard kiss pressed to her lips and his hips rolled his length against her center. A long moan into his mouth encouraged him, and unlike their tryst in the Impala, Dean kissed harder. While that night in the car had been all too thrilling, their approach had been gentle, tender even. Pinned to the door of her room with Dean so aggressive between her thighs, Elizabeth prayed for more. And she hoped he wanted the same in return.

Her legs slipped from his hips and her boots thumped to the floor. Another deft step spun them about, and she thanked God Dean moved with her as if in a dance he knew by heart. They followed each other’s subtle suggestions without hesitation, eager to please, to satisfy. And when she grasped the hem of his shirt, Dean’s arms reached for the ceiling, that eagerness glowing in his eyes with anticipation.

Elizabeth had plans, things she wanted from him. But when she rid him of his shirts, she stopped, stunned. In the darkness of the Impala all those months ago, she had not been able to see him, not even his face. And though she had felt the rolling muscles and subtle curves of his body, the sight of him shirtless, disheveled, and wanting pooled a swell of heat between her thighs that weakened her knees.

“What?”

His question drew her eyes to his where she found a wicked gleam. Her own devious grin spread across her lips as she licked them and said, “I haven’t really seen you like this before.”

As her fingers traced the grooves of his chest, his abs, Dean shivered, and gooseflesh covered his arms. “I'm guessing you approve?”

An unbidden hum sang through her nose as she smoothed the skin of his hips. “’Approve’ is one way to put it. Lust for, desire, covet, crave. Pick your favorite,” Elizabeth pinned him to the door with a rough check of her hips. A brief kiss earned her a gasping breath sucked through his nose and when she parted from him, she knelt as he breathed a moan. “None come close to describing just how much I’ve wanted this.”

The brilliant glow of understanding illuminated his giddy grin. “Thirst,” he whispered as he cupped her cheek, and his thumb teased at her lips. “I know that look in your eye. You thirst for me.”

Elizabeth responded on impulse, her lips parting and tongue reaching. The sharp salt of his skin filled her mouth as Dean’s thumb slipped in, and she closed her lips around it. Red lipstick smeared along his finger as she lifted her chin, withdrawing him from her mouth.

“Tease,” Dean stated.

“You like it.”

A coy smile crooked his lips. “Oh, I love it, Liz.”

He enjoyed her teasing. With that she could have far too much fun. She returned her touch to his hips, prying at the waistband of his underwear that peeked out above his unfastened jeans. Dean writhed with quiet moans as Elizabeth stripped him to his ankles and froze. There he stood still in all his erect glory, and she remained still. A heavy flex of his groin twitched his cock, and his jaw fell slack when her fingers returned to his thighs.

“Too much?” she asked.

He shook his head as he replied with a grunted, “No.” He grasped the base of his shaft and stroked his cock, relief easing his furrowed brow. “But I’m not gonna hold out much longer.”

God, but he was gorgeous, his want radiating from every muscle, every inch of his existence. Elizabeth merely watched as Dean pleasured himself, but the urgent need to have him sank to her core, soaking her underwear. The room had grown too hot, sweat dripping down her back, and so she removed her shirt, then joined him with her fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Think you got a few more minutes in you?” she pleaded.

“Only if you take your bra off,” Dean breathed with a wink.

A man that knew exactly what he wanted. Perfect. No indecisive bullshit from him, she knew that without a doubt. Maybe he could keep up with her own demands, she thought as she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra. The thick fabric fell to the floor, Elizabeth so eager to be rid of it. Free of the restriction, she hummed a pleased sigh.

Once more, Dean gaped as he stared, his words slow to his lips. “Fuck, Liz, your tits are amazing.”

A sway of shoulders undulated her breasts, then she squeezed them together with her arms. “I suppose this is your first good look, too.”

He nodded as he bit his bottom lip, and another deep groan rolled from his chest as she returned her hands to his flesh, fingers wrapped around his cock. “Can’t wait to see the rest.”

Dangerously close, her lips neared the crown of his cock as she whispered, “You will. Eventually. But first…”

Dean’s fists clenched at his sides as he watched, and Elizabeth parted her lips. The tip of his cock met her skin and his head thumped against the door as he moaned. She had barely taken him into her mouth, but when the tip of her tongue teased the head of his cock, Dean melted. His thigh quivered beneath her touch, and his hips stuttered, seeming to resist the urge to thrust into her. With his last bid for control, Elizabeth had satisfied her desire to tease him. Her lips parted further with the drop of her jaw and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked his length to the back of her throat.

When her nose met his pelvis, Dean gasped, no moan or growl or grunt in his voice. Elizabeth reared a beat later and grasped his hips to keep them still, nails dug into his flexed muscles. Another bob of her head extracted the moan trapped in his chest as his hips thrust and his chin raised to the ceiling.

“Son of a bitch, Liz, that feels so fucking good,” he sighed. “Faster.”

She obliged, her head bobbing with the rhythm of his hips and her hand stroking his length in time. As each minute passed, his moans drifted higher, sang longer and louder until Dean all but whimpered. His hands gathered her hair at the back of her head, and Elizabeth sang with him as he thrust into her mouth. In the instant his hips faltered, she looked up to find his own eyes wide and wild with his impending release. There she relinquished control, one hand stroking a muscled thigh, the other slipped into her jeans as Dean fucked her mouth, his final thrusts beating in time with his stuttered breaths.

The sudden withdrawal of his length released a stream of saliva down her chin, and Elizabeth gasped for breath as Dean took himself in hand. Desperate strokes sought his end as he begged, “Open your mouth,” with a gasping whimper. “I’m… I want to see it. In your mouth. Please.”

Elizabeth did as he requested, her lips loose and tongue reaching for the head of his cock. He stroked harder, throaty groans and grunts familiar sounds to Elizabeth as he grasped her hair once more and held her still. The engorged head of his cock rested on her lips as that final wave of euphoria coursed through his body, evident in the long, jaw-dropping silent moan. The silken warmth of his cum filled her mouth in a long, slow stream that coated her lips and tongue. Tart, almost sour, the taste of his cum overwhelmed her senses, and Elizabeth breathed a moan through her nose as she stared into Dean’s eyes of wildfire.

She thought him finished, but when she closed her lips to suck him clean, Dean jerked back and a final shot of his cum lanced from his cock and landed on her left breast directly on her taut, rosy nipple.

“Holy shit,” he gasped as he released her hair. “I’m so sorry, that… I didn’t mean to do that.”

Elizabeth stood and, without a word, grasped Dean by the jaw and directed his gaze to her neck. She swallowed, the smooth fluid running down her throat. Finished, she licked her lips, and Dean gaped as he watched, his own tongue mirroring hers. “Clean it up for me?” she asked as she released her grip on his jaw.

A rough kiss landed on her lips as Dean took her head in both hands, tongue diving into her mouth. And though in the moment, Elizabeth marveled in the distinct contrast of their sexual encounters. So tender he had been in the Impala. But there in her room, Dean’s aggressive and desperate need for pleasure left her dizzy with want and eager for more.

The smear of his lips down her chin gripped her attention, tongue trailing down her neck to her collar, and then her chest. He slipped his hands to her back and held her still to his mouth as he lapped at the string of his cum, sucking at her flesh until he reached her nipple. There, his full lips enveloped her, his tongue circling. With a lewd pop, he sucked her clean, and Elizabeth whimpered her pleasure as her back arched, cool air teasing her wet flesh.

“I owe you,” Dean stated with a wicked grin. He kicked his boots off and freed himself of his remaining clothes, completely bare before her. And then he reached for her jeans, a flick of his fingers parting the button and drawing down the zipper. But there his confidence seemed to falter, and he stuttered as he spoke. “Are you… would you want me to—”

“For fuck’s sake, Dean, just ask. We’re too old for that shit,” Elizabeth demanded with a smirk.

His grin returned in full as he pulled her flush to his scalding skin, her breasts sticking to his sweaty chest. In her ear, he whispered, “I want to eat you out.”

The half-soft length of his cock pressed against the exposed flesh of her pelvis as Dean slipped her jeans past her hips. The primal need to feel all of him drove her nails into his shoulders, and they writhed together, grunts of frustration and anticipation mingling. “That wasn’t a question.”

Dean laughed despite his insistent hands that stripped her jeans to her ankles and tore away her boots. Knelt at her feet, he looked up to her and gaped, words failing until Elizabeth cocked an inquisitive brow. “May I taste you, Ms. Andersson?”

“Fuck me, you can do whatever you want if you keep calling me _that_ ,” Elizabeth shuddered as she kicked her jeans aside. “Would you prefer I addressed you as Mr.—”

“No. Do not,” Dean demanded as he stood, his glare suddenly serious. Another considering raise of her brow disarmed him, and Dean laughed off his seeming discomfort. Calloused fingers toyed with the thin edges of her underwear as he pulled her close again, teasing her hips. “Dean is perfect.”

The words he left unsaid, that Elizabeth knew ran through his head, broke her heart all over again. While she and Dean had their differences, she knew they were alike in ways that would benefit their new relationship. “Dean it is, then. Now, do I have to shove your head between my legs or are you gonna do it yourself?”

His wicked grin returned in a brilliant flash of freckles and green eyes. Rough hands shoved her back to the bed where she sat with a shocked moan at his roughness. Naked, he towered over her as he stepped between her knees and grasped her underwear by the hips. The rip of the fabric rent the air and Elizabeth cried out, not only in shock, but a wild wave of arousal.

“Too much?” he asked as he winced.

“Hell no,” Elizabeth laughed as she pulled away the ruined garment and tossed it to the floor. “Keep it up. If you think you can. Dean.”

That taunt lit a fire in him she had yet to see. And when he fell to his knees between hers, Elizabeth lay back, her arms stretched over her head as she watched. Another shove parted her thighs, and she gasped at his rough hands, demanding whatever he wanted. There in her room, helplessly bare to him, was the only time Elizabeth wanted Dean Winchester in command of her.

“Fingers?” he asked.

“Fingers…” she repeated with a long drawl.

He laughed as he rephrased, “Would you prefer fingers with my tongue, Ms. Andersson?”

A moan hummed through her nose as Elizabeth thought. “I said you could do whatever you wanted if you kept calling me that.”

She had been prepared for his continued rough treatment, but when Dean slipped two of his large fingers between her lips, Elizabeth startled. He had not penetrated her, only parted her sopping flesh already so wet with want and coated his fingers in her arousal. When she said nothing, he spoke in her stead, seeming to understand her shock.

“I wasn’t about to fingerbang you bone dry,” Dean mused.

Before Elizabeth had a chance to respond, his middle finger buried in her flesh, and she moaned as her back arched, needing more. “Dean, I… please. Add a finger or suck my clit. Better yet, do both, I can’t stand the teasing any longer.”

He did as she demanded, his perfect lips sealing around the exposed flesh of her clit as he withdrew and slipped another finger inside her. Her body responded, a primal reaction to being filled and sucked, and Elizabeth keened a long, high moan of euphoric pleasure.

Dean. Only Dean existed, his head buried between her thighs, sucking and licking and fingers thrusting, the rest of the world melting away. The lascivious, wet sounds emanating from them spiked her arousal, and when Dean’s green eyes locked with hers, that arousal coiled too tight to maintain. He took one last breath as he said, “Come for me, Liz. Come on my face,” then returned his lips to her flesh. With his tongue and fingers speeding up, her impending release neared.

That familiar wave of warmth from her core rushed through her entire body, and Elizabeth cried out her orgasm. Back arched and hands buried in his hair, she pressed his head hard against her sex, grinding against his face until every pulsing shock of her release ran its course. The warm wet of her arousal spread to her thighs as Dean’s tongue stroked her flesh, and in a final cry, Elizabeth collapsed on the bed. When she relaxed her grip, Dean rose up, lips and chin covered in her thin, pale white cum.

“I’ve died, and this is heaven,” he mumbled, tongue licking his lips. “My woman is a squirter.”

“Your woman?”

Dean hesitated at that, and Elizabeth knew he regretted his phrasing. So, she waited. Maybe he could dig himself out. Long seconds dragged until he knelt on the bed and lay by her side, legs entwined. His fingertips teased at her hips, her stomach, and she writhed with his surprisingly delicate touch. “Do you want a washcloth?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Don’t avoid the subject.”

“I’m not,” Dean protested as his arm encircled her and pulled her flush to him. “I’m trying to be considerate. Because I love you. And I want to be with you. Belong to you. Is that… too much? Too soon?”

She had been right. Dean, despite his tough exterior and masculine stoicism, loved with every fiber of his existence. Grave avoided. “It’s not too much. At all,” Elizabeth said as she touched his cheek. “I love you too. But no, I don’t need a washcloth.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he stated with a coy quirk of his lips. His hips rolled against hers, the hard length of his cock stroking her flesh. “Because I want to fuck you. May I fuck you, Ms. Andersson?”

There on her bed they lay for a moment of silence, staring, consuming. Her patience ran out when Dean did nothing, and so she shoved him at the shoulder to lay on his back, then straddled him. The slow rock of her hips earned her a short gasp, his breath catching in his throat. Her sopping cunt coated his cock in a thick layer of her arousal, and Dean moaned deep in his chest. “Holy shit, Liz,” he whispered as he grasped her hips. “You feel fucking amazing and I’m not even inside you yet.”

“You will be,” she sighed as she rose up on her knees. One hand reached between them and grasped his thick cock. Dean shivered, ecstasy on his gaping lips and in his wide eyes as she angled the swollen tip to the sopping heat of her flesh. “You’ll spread me,” she moaned as she released her thighs, a gradual descent down his length. With the head of his cock enveloped, Dean whimpered, and Elizabeth moaned with him. “You’ll fill me,” she continued, voice creeping ever higher as she lowered herself, inch by inch, onto his cock. When their bodies met, she cried out a long, high sigh to the ceiling, head thrown back and fingers grasping his hips. Dean, too, moaned a throaty growl so raw with arousal, Elizabeth shivered. “And you’ll fuck me.”

Dean’s hands met the supple flesh of her ass in a resounding slap as his hips bucked. That instinctive reaction drove his cock deep into her cunt, and Elizabeth’s broken gasp seemed to encourage him. With her own hard thrust, she settled his hips, thighs squeezed to hold him in place, and Dean gaped, whether in shock or arousal, she could not be sure. Must be both.

“But not until I fuck you first,” Elizabeth demanded as she lay atop him, breasts squeezed against the hard planes of his chest. A firm kiss planted on his lips drew another whimper as she sucked his bottom lip. “You’re all mine to ride now, cowboy.”

When she straightened, Dean’s hands slipped from her ass, smoothed over her ribs, then cupped both of her breasts. Elizabeth writhed with his touch, hips rolling and her cunt stroking his cock. “Do it then,” he started, but when she quirked a brow at him, he rephrased. “Please, Ms. Andersson. Ride my cock, I need to feel your pussy riding my cock.”

Calloused thumbs rolled her taut nipples and for a moment, Elizabeth’s thoughts ceased. The sight of Dean so desperate for her, beneath her, between her muscled thighs, and begging to be fucked had her so close to coming again, she had to consciously force herself to hold back. But not for long. Her thighs flexed as she rose again, and one slow stroke dragged a whimper out of Dean the likes of which Elizabeth had never heard. And so, she repeated the motion, gained speed with each rise and fall of her hips, each thrust and roll of his. The slaps of their bodies filled the room, as did their moans of pleasure, their growls and grunts of animalistic want combined with the heady aroma of their sex. It rivaled any drug or drink, for nothing compared to the sensation of Dean, vulnerable.

It took Elizabeth mere minutes before the wet of her cunt ran down his cock and rolled in tiny rivulets over his balls. That end dangled just out of reach, her arousal bound so tight in her core she worried it might tear her apart upon release. Though Dean appeared to be near that end as well, she rode him harder, leaning forward and bouncing her hips on his length as he thrust to meet her core. But that lasted no more than a few seconds before Dean grasped her ass once more, her expeditious pursuit of their mutual climax halted.

“What is it?” she asked.

A gulp of air did little to ease Dean’s breathy speech. “May I fuck you, Ms. Andersson?”

Dean’s flushed skin reddened further at the request, and Elizabeth wanted to die their atop him, a happy woman. “You are,” she said with a laugh.

“No,” Dean started as he sat up, arms wrapped around her from shoulder to hip. “I want to see it. I would love to see my cock buried in your pussy.” A gentle, tender kiss teased her lips, Dean’s tongue yet tart from her cum. Together they moaned as he rolled his hips, a subtle stroke of wanting. “Please, Ms. Andersson. May I fuck you?”

Without a reply, Elizabeth dismounted from him and, like a wild cat, stretched on her hands and knees. “Something like this?”

Dean’s gaze widened with awe, jaw slack, and an absent-minded hand crept along her ass to stroke her spine. Gooseflesh raced across her skin at his delicate fingertips, and at her neck, he repeated the stroke, trailing down to her ass. He brushed by her tight hole to tease the sopping, swollen folds of her cunt and spread her arousal. When he withdrew, Dean rose to his knees and settled between her legs spread wide, then coated her hole with the same two fingers.

“Fuck me, Liz, every inch of you is perfect,” he sighed. “Please tell me you have something for your ass.”

Damn. It was if he had known her for years. “In the night stand,” she said she reached for the handle, too far away.

Dean leaned over her, the heavy length of his cock pressed firmly between her cheeks. A muted whimper escaped her at that sudden sensation, his shaft stroking smooth as he rummaged through the drawer. “Christ, babe, how many of these things do you have?”

“Don’t give me shit,” Elizabeth retorted. “They’re fun.”

“I know they’re fun, but I don’t know which one to fucking pick, I’m too indecisive,” Dean explained with a laugh as he continued to search. “If I pick the wrong one—”

“None of them are wrong,” she stated with a buck of her hips. “Just pick one and get it lubed, dammit.”

A bright pink drawstring bag, one of many, rose from the drawer in Dean’s grasp. He parted the opening and withdrew a ribbed vibrator of soft blue silicone with a flared base, the perfect choice for what he intended.

“Condoms are in the drawer, too,” she directed, and Dean obliged. With the toy covered, he wasted no time, pressing the tip to her slick folds, and the phallus glided in effortlessly.

He moaned a sigh that slipped into his words as the base met her pelvis. “Damn, that’s so fucking hot. Feel good?”

With the press of a button, the vibration started, building from nothing to its lowest frequency. Elizabeth’s cry of pleasure sounded far more pathetic than she had intended, but in Dean’s amazing hands, she hardly cared. If anything, she hoped it drove him wild to see her in such a worthless state, a slave to her primal wants. “It feels amazing, Dean, but I need more.”

The vibrator withdrew in a smooth pull and left her too empty, her overstimulated sex desperate for more. Two fingers replaced it, a few quick thrusts that earned Dean another moan. She worried that, with all his teasing, she may come too soon, but a few deep breaths steadied her racing heart.

Until both fingers filled her hole. And then his cock returned, slipped into her cunt as if it belonged there, welcomed with heated flesh and more of her arousal that ran down her thighs. The shock of fullness, of the penetration and strokes and heat, coursed raw want through her entire body until she shivered with it. “Son of a bitch, you’re so relaxed already,” Dean said as he leaned over her back, bodies flush. With his lips against her ear, he whispered, “May I fuck your ass with your toy, Ms. Andersson?”

“Just fucking do it already, Dean, I’m done with the goddamn games.”

His confident hum of knowing drove Elizabeth mad and left her lightheaded behind eyes squeezed shut. With his fingers removed, the subtle hum of the vibrator pressed to her hole, slickened by her own arousal, then slid in the first inch.

The entire world came to a screeching halt. Elizabeth froze in that singular moment as her eyes snapped open. Inch by inch, Dean eased the vibrator into her, and, once sheathed, he pressed the button again. There he held it as he withdrew his cock with one slow stroke, then slammed his hips home, their bodies slapping in a resounding clap.

Together, they sang their songs of pleasure, a culmination of anticipation and satisfaction praising one another. “God, Liz, you are beyond perfection. I can feel everything, the vibrator, your pussy squeezing my cock, all of it, and it’s—”

Elizabeth pulled her hips from him, then thrust back to demand more. “Fuck me, Dean. I know it feels fucking incredible, but it’ll be even better when that huge cock of yours pounds my pussy raw.”

“Jesus, you sure know how to sweet talk a guy,” Dean retorted as he withdrew from her again. “Keep going, babe, I love your dirty mouth.”

A slow stroke filled her to the brim, and Elizabeth moaned as she arched further into the mattress. “Yes, Dean, like that. Fuck me,” she demanded, “I want you to fuck me so hard, I’ll be sore for days.”

Dean’s wordless moan reached a new height at that, his hips stuttering as he gathered speed. Another click of the button on the vibrator increased the frequency, and Elizabeth grunted an unbidden moan with the sudden change. “Damn, that feels so good. Your cock in my pussy and you, controlling that dildo in my ass. I want more, Dean, keep going. Faster.”

Breathless gasps emanated from behind her as Dean did as she demanded. He thrust into her hard and fast, the last level of the vibrator achieved with one more press of the button. And Elizabeth gasped despite her preparation, her fists gathering the sheets as she met his thrusts with her own bucking hips. “More, Dean, I’m so close,” she begged, her climax within reach. “God, fuck me, baby, come with me.”

“I’m—” Dean gasped but his words faltered with his repeated moans. His grasp shifted from her hips to her ass, then back again as he sought stability. “I’m--gonna come. I can’t— _fuck_.”

Each thrust pushed her another inch closer, her end so near. The tightly bound coil of heat in her core unraveled in seconds when Dean reached under her hip and found her clit, fingertips well coated in her arousal and circling her flesh. There, her world shattered once more, her climax exploding with unstoppable force, and Elizabeth screamed.

Harmony to her melody, Dean growled his own release into her neck, several short grunts punctuating his thrusts until his cock pulsed inside her. The rush of cum down her thighs, his and hers alike, set a quiver in her muscles and she shuddered beneath Dean’s weight. His sweat-drenched body stuck to hers as he placed tender kisses about her shoulders, neck, and jaw, the aftershocks of his release subsiding in a sublime sigh as he parted from her.

With a swift tug, Dean wrenched open her drawer again and withdrew two washcloths. He handed one to her, and Elizabeth cleaned herself as best as she could. With the vibrator powered off and removed, Elizabeth breathed her own sigh of contented ease, her muscles sore with a marvelous ache she would savor for days.

Collapsed to the bed, she lay on her back, one arm behind her head as the other reached for Dean. His washcloth fell to the floor with a flick of his wrist as he lay beside her, nose buried in the crook of her neck and a hand cupping her breast. He coiled so close to her, she could hardly tell where one body started and the other ended. And there Elizabeth discovered something she never expected.

“My man’s a post-fuck-cuddler.”

Dean curled closer, his massive arms squeezing her flush to his entire body as he hummed in agreement. “Damn straight, I am. This is the best part.”

She laughed at that, an embarrassingly girlish giggle. “That doesn’t change anything, you know.”

Green eyes met hers with a devious smirk. “Oh, I know. You’re on your own, now, big girl. No more backup from me. No, ma’am, you have to get your own kills.”

“Dean, that’s not--”

A gentle kiss met her lips, swallowing her words, and despite her frustration, Elizabeth sighed into Dean’s embrace. Parted, any trace of smarm or sarcasm had fled, his tone serious as ever. “I love you, Elizabeth. And I respect you. So, I promise to be better. But I will always have your six, just like I have Sam’s and Natalie’s. I will always have your back.”

His grin returned as he grasped the swell of her backside, fingertips biting into the supple muscle. Elizabeth sucked a breath through gritted teeth, her own nails digging into his taut shoulder. Dean moaned with her as he whispered to her. “Who wouldn’t want to cover your back? God damn, woman, do you do squats every day?”

“What do you think?” she asked as she rolled her hips against his and ran her fingers through his hair.

Dean groaned as he squeezed her ass again, the sting of his nails a perfect blend of pain and pleasure. “I think that round two might get here a little faster if you keep that up.”


End file.
